What the fuck am I doing? Miwa parked her bike in the garage in front of the main hospital entrance. This isn’t my responsibility. I don’t even know who this woman is. She removed her helmet and tucked it behind the seat.

Maybe someone else has come to pick her up and nobody told me. Nope. There she was. Sayuri sat in a wheelchair, her sweater over her lap and her face glum. While her fingers were glued to her cell phone screen, the rest of her looked like she would rather shrivel up like a dried out prune.

Well, Miwa had foolishly signed up for this, so she might as well get it over with. Fujimi wasn’t that far away, really. It made more sense to ride back to her place first, since her train pass started at her local station, but Sayuri should be well enough to ride tandem, right?

“Ohayou gozaimasu,” Miwa greeted both Sayuri and the nurse approaching her from behind. “I’m sorry if I’m late.”

“You’re right on time.” The nurse bowed her head in greeting before rechecking something on Sayuri’s wheelchair. “Kawashima-san is ready to go home as soon as you’re able.”

Sayuri sheepishly looked up at Miwa. “I’m so sorry for putting you through this. Again.”

“It’s no problem. Really.” Miwa looked on in mild trepidation as Sayuri attempted to stand from her chair. Legs wobbled and eyes rolled back. For a moment, Miwa feared that Sayuri would fall back into the chair. “Ano… are you okay?”

The nurse presented Miwa with a page from the discharge papers. “Kawashima-san is still a bit woozy from her momentary illness. The doctors are sure that she’ll have her full strength back within a few days, but until then please be careful whenever she walks or stands for long periods of time.”

“Sou ka…” Miwa glanced over the heavy medical terms and the brief doctor’s note that said, “Probably isn’t a danger to herself or others.” Nothing inspired confidence like that doctor’s note. “It should be okay.”

Sayuri finally had her land legs again, but the look she offered did not make Miwa feel better. The poor woman was probably embarrassed out of her mind. She didn’t have anyone to help her get home from Tokyo, and the hospital wouldn’t let her go on her own. No family was one thing, but she didn’t have any close friends, either? Hard to believe. No it’s not. Miwa kept her sigh to herself. She would know firsthand about having few friends or family to lend her a hand.

Maybe that’s why she was quick to volunteer herself. She knew what it was like to live in that limbo.

“My vehicle is this way.” Miwa offered her hand to Sayuri, but it was declined. “If we leave now, we can beat the lunch hour traffic.”

Sayuri glanced back at the nurse, who politely waved them off from the curb. Before the invalid had the chance to run back into the hospital, the nurse had wheeled the chair around and directed it back into the building. Time for someone else to use it.

“Thank you for doing this,” Sayuri mumbled on the way into the garage. “I really hate putting a stranger out like this. You really didn’t have to.”

Miwa had anticipated this scenario unfolding, but she was still embarrassed to hear it. “It really isn’t a problem. I have the day off today and no other plans.”

“Were you really the person who helped me at the train station?”

“Yes. Like I said, you probably don’t recognize me because I’m not in my uniform.” Miwa always looked so cool and collected in her attendant’s uniform. In real life, however, she was a mess in baggy sweatshirts and worn-out jeans. It was a miracle if her hair didn’t become a huge greasy mess in either a ponytail or flying free in the wind. “Even my own mother didn’t recognize me the first time I sent her a picture of me in my uniform.”

Sayuri almost continued into a different section of the parking garage. When she realized Miwa had gone in another direction, she hurried to backtrack and almost tripped over her feet.

“Are you here on behalf of the station?” She didn’t mention that they had entered the bike garage. Rows upon rows of bicycles and street motorbikes lined up in a colorful array of seats and handlebars.

“No. They honestly don’t know that I did this.” Miwa stopped behind her bike and pulled out her key for the lock. “I’d actually appreciate it if you didn’t bring it up to my employer. They might get weird about it.” Only a little bit. The most they were authorized to do was send a get well card to the hospital, and every employee had to sign it. “This is it, by the way.”

Sayuri stared at the humble bicycle. “I see.”

“We can walk toward the train station. I don’t live too far from it. Here.” Miwa offered Sayuri the handlebars. “Use this to hang onto. It’s okay. Let me know if you’re feeling too dizzy to continue.”

“Thank you.”

They must’ve looked the sight walking down the sunlit street. Sayuri, in her flowy skirt and blouse – the same ones she had been wearing when admitted to the hospital – walked with a banged up bike that was clearly too short for her to effectively ride. Miwa followed alongside her, a backpack covered in anime and video game keychains jingling with every step. Miwa was the only one who knew where they were going and had to direct Sayuri, who led the bike as if she had never ridden one before and had no idea how to touch it.

It was certainly one way to make their way through the back streets toward Miwa’s apartment.

“Were you also the one who sent me those flowers, Ban-san?”

Miwa slowly nodded. “Your room looked really drab. I thought it could use some sprucing up with colors. The lady at the florist next to the gift shop said it was a perfect get well bouquet.” She didn’t mention she bought it premade, alongside a dozen other “perfect” get well bouquets. “I hope I didn’t overstep my bounds.”

“Suppose I’m just confused as to why you’re being so kind to me.” Sayuri laughed. “Not that I don’t appreciate it. But it’s difficult for me to understand. We never met before the other night, and I barely remember it.”

“Seemed like the thing to do.”

In truth, Miwa had no idea why she did it either. She shouldn’t have even visited Sayuri in the hospital. But how could she restrain herself when she kept thinking about those narrow eyes that looked like they had seen a world beyond her own soul? Some people were simply memorable. When Miwa woke up yesterday morning, her first thought was of Sayuri and her predicament. Intuition. She supposed she could call it that.

“Thank you again.”

“There’s really no need to thank me,” Miwa said. “Now, you say you live in Fujimi?”

“Hai. If you could show me the direction to Ikebukuro Station, I can get home fine on my own. I have money for tickets.”

Miwa nodded again. “As soon as we drop my bike off at my apartment, I can take you to the station in my neighborhood. It goes straight to Ikebukuro. Easy connection.”

“Thank you… I mean…” Blushing, Sayuri almost released the handlebars in her weakened grip. “Oh, is there any news about my missing bag?”

“I haven’t been back to work since that night, but I can check for you tomorrow.”

“I really don’t know where I left it. I feel so stupid about that whole night.” Sayuri left it there.

“Are you going to be okay?” Miwa wanted to pry more, of course, but didn’t. “We were all worried about you at the station.”

Sayuri’s cheeks were even redder. “Hazukashii.”

“Gomen. I don’t mean to embarrass you.”

“Suppose it can’t be helped. I was having a bad day.”

Bad day? What kind of bad day made a woman nearly collapse into the train tracks? Sure, Sayuri hadn’t looked her best, but that could’ve easily been explained by any number of conditions. Miwa had never assumed that Sayuri had done something to herself.

That’s not true. I worried she was trying to commit suicide.

Miwa stopped in front of a side street. “This way. My apartment, that is.”

Sayuri directed the bike down the narrow street. During the day, Miwa’s neighborhood looked more boring and devoid of amenities than usual. That’s how a single woman paid for an apartment in Tokyo. The only way Miwa really got by was having a nice employee pass for train fare. But it didn’t go everywhere. Only where her company went, and it wasn’t the biggest one in Tokyo. If I worked for JR, I could really go anywhere… But she didn’t work for JR, so she better pinch her yen and hope her bank account stood against the inevitable rent increases.

They never encountered another soul walking up to Miwa’s old apartment building. Most of the people living on that tiny street either worked during the day or all night. Those who were at home were fast asleep in their futons and praying that the sunlight didn’t disturb them. That’s how I feel most days. Sometimes Miwa didn’t get to sleep until five in the morning. She was lucky to be up by noon.

If you didn’t play so many stupid video games… Miwa took over control of her bike so she could lock it by her front door. “If it’s okay,” she began, “I’ll grab another jacket from inside. Should only take a moment.”

“All right.”

Miwa opened her half-rusted door and immediately encountered a frequent problem: a mild earthquake had knocked over her laundry basket and spilled her dirty clothes across the genkan. This was a nuisance when Miwa was the only one walking through her door. With a guest following close behind?

Mortifying! Those were her panties on the dirty cement floor!

“Shimatta!” Miwa barreled forward and hurried to toss her clothes back into the basket. “Sorry! This happens all the time!” Thin walls, a shoddy foundation, and a rickety shelf meant the next Big One would probably collapse the place. Miwa had a theory that the Great Tohoku Earthquake had fucked up the building’s foundation. They were as good as dead next time.

“Is everything okay?”

My pride is shot. At least Sayuri was a woman. Maybe she wouldn’t be mortified to see Miwa’s sports bras and cotton underwear tossed back into their basket. Does this make us even? “Daijyoubu yo. Just annoying. Sorry!”

Sayuri glanced around the cramped entryway before inching across the threshold. “Shitsurei shimasu,” she muttered. “Oh, excuse me.”

Miwa placed the tub of clothes back on top of the shelf. “I can’t remember what I came in here for now.”

“Something about a jacket?”

“Oh. Right. In here.”

Miwa scrambled for an appropriate jacket to wear to the nearby train station. Sayuri was left to stand in the efficiency kitchen, where a dirty bowl with half-eaten ramen remained. Crap! I’m such a slob! Sayuri was the one fresh from the hospital, but she looked like a composed housewife compared to Miwa the total mess. Oh, well. Too late to clean it up and save face now. Sayuri had already made her judgments, hadn’t she?

“Your place is cute, Ban-san.”

“Oh, uh… thanks.” Was she nuts? The place looked like some kind of shut-in lived there. Half-eaten food, crumbs on the floor, panties falling out of baskets… shit! What was Miwa thinking, leaving her video game posters up on the walls? That was more embarrassing than the mini train models taking over her humble coffee table. Try plugging your PS4 controller in next time! The poor thing had been left to rot in the middle of the floor when Miwa went to bed the night before. “I’m sorry it’s such a mess. I don’t have a lot of room.”

“My place is small as well.” Sayuri stared at one of the posters. “We make do with the space we’re given.”

“I guess so.” Miwa snapped a jacket off its hook. “Ikimashou ka?”

The station was only a few minutes away by foot. Sayuri walked without the need for aid, although Miwa always lurked nearby to offer a hand if desired.

“Ano…” Miwa stood by the ticket machines outside. It was a one-line station that boasted a humbler ridership than the station she worked at a few kilometers away. The only people lurking inside were a couple of students, an elderly woman, and the station master on duty. He didn’t look twice at Miwa. Likewise, she didn’t know him. “If you go this way, you’ll end up in Ikebukuro a few stops away. It’s a relatively short trip, although you have to wait for a local train to come by.”

Sayuri offered a genial smile. “Thank you for everything, Ban¬-san.” She bowed at the waist, a move that conjured the attention of the station master in his booth. “I insist on acquiring your mailing address so I can send you my thanks in the post.”

Miwa knew better than to fight it. She coughed up her address on a business card and handed it over. When Sayuri waved herself off through the ticket gates, Miwa could only think, I have a feeling this is going to be a thing.

The day was still young. She could either go back home and play video games, or… well, she couldn’t afford anything else. Video games on her day off would have to be it.